


Possibilities

by tommygirl



Category: Alias
Genre: Episode Related, F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2011-04-04
Updated: 2011-04-04
Packaged: 2017-10-17 14:19:17
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,896
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/177750
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/tommygirl/pseuds/tommygirl
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Written for the Sarkney Ficathon with the request of pure sarkney set in autumn.  Schmoop involving making pancakes and figuring out exactly what Syd and Sark are to one another. Set during season three after Succession.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Possibilities

It was unusually warm for a New England day in October. The wind worked its magic, blowing the fallen leaves across her path. The air was crisp as she took a deep breath, but the sun was out, beating down on her skin and the path she was walking along. The sky was clear blue above her, not a cloud in sight, just miles and miles of blue that she imagined getting lost in.

Technically, she was already lost. Sydney Bristow was missing, and it took being lost to truly understand what she had wanted. What was that song? _I once was lost, but now I’m found_ – Sydney hummed it under breath as she continued walking. She wondered if this oddity of a day was a sign of some sort. Proof from God or whatever Supreme Being was out there that He thought that Sydney’s decision had been the right one. Not that she needed a sign – she was never into letting fate decide things for her because it had a nasty habit of being cruel – other than the fact that when she woke up in the morning, she was at peace. Moving on was no longer a few random conversation she had with people in drunken stupors, but a possibility.

 _Possibility._ Not the same as probability, which in her opinion was highly overrated and way too mathematical. Possibility was a wonderful thing. Possibility was waking up to a glorious day in the arms of a man she never expected to love, but did against all reason; possibility was finally being free of her predestined spy life and learning to find her own way. Possibility had been her saving grace.

_“This offer is only available for the next few minutes. I’m willing to help you get what you need most, Miss Bristow.”_

_“And what’s that?”_

_“Closure. Nasty word, but necessary nonetheless.”_

_“I’d rather bathe in pig’s blood than to work with you.”_

_“Pig’s blood? You are quite fond of hyperbole, aren’t you?” he paused and stepped closer to her, “Tell me you haven’t considered it? Running off and leaving the CIA and Covenant to fend for themselves. To make Mr. Vaughn truly regret what he lost when he gave up on you.”_

_“You don’t know what you’re talking about.”_

_“But I do and I can make it happen. You help me get my money back and I’ll help you in return.”_

_“Why should I trust you?”_

_“Think of the possibilities, Sydney. Think of the team we could be, think of the life you could make for yourself away from the control of Rambaldi psychopaths, think of a future where you don’t have to be reminded of all that you’ve lost every day.”_

_“Since when do you care about me, Sark?”_

_He scoffed and stated, “I’d be in it for the money, of course.”_

_“Of course.”_

Sydney never really believed in possibility before that day. In hindsight she wasn’t sure she could even say that she believed in it that day. It wasn’t until it was all over – when Sark had his money back and Sydney Bristow was once again about to disappear from the radar – that it really sunk in. Opportunity had provided her with an out, a new beginning, and she would’ve been a fool not to take it. She could finally see what all the fuss was about a normal life.

_“I’m leaving, Weiss. I just thought you should know. You’ve been a good friend to me the past couple of months, my only friend, and when I’m gone, I wanted you to know that it was my choice this time. That I needed to do this.”_

_”Syd, you’re not making sense.”_

_“I’m starting over. Everyone else has and I think, I_ know _, that it’s time for me to do the same thing. Sydney Bristow, CIA Agent extraordinaire, died over two years ago. It’s time for me to let go,” she replied. She leaned over and hugged him before he could say anything else. She whispered, “I’m going to miss you, but I need to do this.”_

_“Well, if you need to, I’ll help anyway I can.”_

_“I’ve already got some help, but thanks.”_

_“What? Who?” She shot him a look and he shrugged, “Okay, so it’s probably best if you don’t tell me, but you’re my friend. I’m entitled to worry a bit about you.”_

_“Don’t worry. I’m in surprisingly good hands, Eric.”_

Sydney walked up to steps to the entrance of her townhouse. She removed her coat and smiled against the smell of food wafting through the air and followed it to her kitchen. She rounded the corner quietly and watched bemusedly as a bare-chested Sark stood over the stove with a spatula in one hand and a cookbook in his other. He cursed under his breath as something splattered on his face.

“Bloody brilliant. I can dismantle an atomic bomb, but can’t make a pancake. Bravo.”

She giggled, causing Sark’s eyes to move from the book and land on her. He rolled his eyes and said, “You’re out of practice, Miss Bristow. You used to be much stealthier.” He dropped the cookbook on the counter and said, “And apparently my surprise is ruined due to my own idiocy.”

Sydney wrapped her arms around him from behind, watching as he attempted to continue cooking. She laughed into his back and said, “Those are the saddest looking pancakes I’ve ever seen.”

He pulled away and pointed his spatula at her, “This is why I prefer room service.”

She hopped up onto the counter and stirred the remaining batter. She said, “I’m willing to help you.”

He arched his eyebrow, “Think I can’t do it on my own, do you?”

She pointed to his hapless efforts and said, “I know you can’t and I’d prefer not to have another home burn down.”

“Best thing to happen to you, if you ask me.”

“I didn’t, but you’re right,” she replied.

“Miss Bristow, are you flirting with me?” he asked. He leaned forward and kissed her. It wasn’t much as far as kisses were concerned, but its potency was enough to cause Sydney to lose all feeling in her arms and smile lazily. He brushed her hair back off her face and added, “I’m very fond of flirting with a beautiful woman.”

Sydney said, “You’re as charming as you are lethal.”

“Darling, that’s the nicest thing you’ve ever said to me,” he replied. He pressed against her, spreading her legs to get closer. She wrapped them around his waist and pulled him toward her for another kiss. He dropped the spatula and allowed his hands to traverse up her back and into her hair.

He pulled back and said, “You have a nasty habit of distracting me. You do realize that?”

She sighed and motioned to the stove, “Your breakfast is burning.”

“Shit.”

Sydney laughed as she watched him flip the pancakes, causing another splatter of batter to hit him on the chest. She covered her mouth to quiet her guffaws, but it didn’t help much. He turned the stove off and practically threw the pan into the sink with a yelp.

“Maybe we should go out for breakfast?” he offered.

“Or we could stay in?” she replied. She pulled him against her and licked the pancake mix off of his chest. She allowed her tongue to travel up the length of him and she nibbled on his ear. She felt him moving closer to her and she wrapped her arms around his neck. She said, “I’m glad you’re here, Julian.”

He smiled and said, “And to think there was a time when you told me you’d prefer to bathe in pig’s blood than work with me.”

“Well, now that I have worked with you, I can honestly say that I’d still prefer that than working with you,” she paused and met his dubious gaze. She offered, “You’re too arrogant to work well with a partner.”

“I’m the best and I only interact with the best,” he replied.

Sydney rolled her eyes and replied, “A legend in your own mind.” She shook her head and said, “I’m the first to admit that this thing between us is a bit strange. Fascinating and wonderful, but strange all the same. I keep asking myself when things switched in my head – when did you go from being an annoyance to something more?”

He frowned. “An annoyance?”

“Yeah.”

“Not sworn enemy? Or handsome bad guy?”

Again she rolled her eyes and said, “I’ve never denied that you were attractive, but then I would talk to you and that wasn’t a problem anymore.”

“The way you woo me, Sydney. It’s no wonder I find myself drawn to you. I’m beginning to think I’m a bit of a masochist.”

Her legs went back around his waist, bringing him closer to her until she was practically on top of him. She covered his face with a few quick kisses and said, “We’re both masochists, but it seems to be working so far, right?”

“Well…”

Sydney moved back to get a good look at Sark. He was looking at the floor and she couldn’t help but think that this involved some business deal or another. He had told her that he was done with the world of evil villain for hire – swearing it had nothing to do with her, but his own survival. He had his nest egg now and no interest in getting his head shot off by angry Covenant workers or enemies of his past. She knew he meant it. Sark wasn’t the type to bother with a lie like that for her benefit, but that didn’t stop her from worrying about those “deals” of his from time to time.

“What’s wrong?” Sydney asked. When he didn’t say anything, Sydney replied, “Julian, tell me.”

“Nothing’s wrong. I’ve been thinking about this thing between us as well and – “

“And?”

“Enough time has passed now that you should be able to travel freely to Europe, a place I’m much fonder of than the good ‘ole US of A.”

She smiled and said, “Julian? Are you asking me to come live with you?”

“I think France is a country better suited for a woman like you, Sydney. This town is too…boring.”

“I’ve come to like boring.”

“If that were true, you never would’ve begun our relationship.”

“Fair point.”

“So what do you say? Willing to partner up with me once again?”

Sydney knew her answer without even thinking about it. She had long ago made peace with her decision to be with Sark. The Sydney who was a CIA agent and had lived her entire life in Los Angeles would never have considered a man like Julian Sark or moving to another country, but the new Sydney, the one making her own life as she went, seemed to have found a kindred spirit in him.

Of course, she wasn’t about to tell him that. If she made this too easy for him, he would be insufferable for years to come – and she _wanted_ years with him. So instead she kissed him again, pulling him onto the counter with her. He pressed against her and she inhaled his familiar smell with a contented sigh. The kiss grew deeper and, when she finally forced herself to break away from him, she whispered, “It’s a possibility.”

_Fin_


End file.
